


Engagement, In-laws and Adventure

by Watson_to_my_Holmes



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Animated Gifs, Clues, Doctor Who References, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gifset, John's parents - Freeform, Johnlock Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Romance, Smutlock, Tea, Top Gun - Freeform, domesticlock, kisslock, sexlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-27 01:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1710053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watson_to_my_Holmes/pseuds/Watson_to_my_Holmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock have returned from a holiday (enforced by Lestrade and paid for by Mycroft) and it seems that now they are in fact a 'couple.' Like, a real one. Mycroft awaits them in 221b and gets quite the surprise.<br/>After a rather large development, John wants Sherlock to meet his parents, which goes maybe a bit TOO well.<br/>After an excellent day, Sherlock opens up as to why he had to fake his death.</p>
<p>Certain amount of Au, as Mary and John never get married in this universe, although she is briefly mentioned!<br/>( Smutlock and Fluff galore, I hope this makes your day a bit better Sherlockians and Cumbercookies x) <3 )</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Returning Home

**Author's Note:**

> Quick intro to this Au were John and Sherlock are very much in love x)

John pushed the door of 221b Baker Street open, the love of his life, Sherlock Holmes followed shortly after. They chuckled like giddy love-struck teenagers. Continuously finding any excuse to touch one another, a touch of an arm, or even several cheeky pinches here or there.  
The train journey home from their holiday in Scotland was cramped but also one of the most comforting nights they’d had together, for it instilled the extension of the idea of forever, they both slept as close as possible to one another. It was a nice experience for John to feel Sherlock’s presence when he woke, for the only consulting detective was extraordinarily impatient. His mind could not stay still for a moment, so for Sherlock to be content with just lying with John, meant everything to the cardigan loving ex-military.

‘Tea?’ John almost sung as they climbed the stairs passing Mrs. Hudson’s front door. Sherlock beamed and replied enthusiastically by picking John up using his lanky arms.  
‘Sherlock!’ John screeched but there was no hint of complaint in his surprised voice. John used his now-in-the-air legs to kick open the door to their small living room. Everything was in place, panning across we see their floor to ceiling book case, their TV next to those rug covered dingy sofas that Sherlock, possibly too often, liked to sleep on. The wall still held those bullet holes that Sherlock so boldly shot on the basis of ‘boredom.’  
There was rather unnervingly however, a man currently sitting on one of those sofas. And my goodness the shock on his face was not an expression often seen on that continuously serious face of his.

‘Oh’ John said without thinking. Sherlock put John down and the smiles were replaced with tight awkward lips.  
‘Hello Mycroft’ spoke Sherlock coolly as if nothing untoward had just occurred.  
‘Erm, hello, what a, er surprise. Your manner of entrance was most unexpected brother mine, getting intimate are we?’ Mycroft practically guffawed.  
‘Simple child’s play Mycroft.’  
John who was now in the kitchen making tea, turned to face Sherlock with a quirk of a smile that could not be helped. In a moment Sherlock turned to face John and gave a smooth wink. John felt his ears tingle with heat.  
Unseen by Mycroft, his expression changed instantly, the uncomfortable shock left from him and was swapped with a cold collected character that was so well rehearsed.

‘Nice holiday?’  
‘Quite.’  
John interrupted ‘yes, thank you very much Mycroft, thank you for paying for the hotel, the favor has now been returned, and you have a lovely taste in sea view suites.’  
Sherlock clearly uninterested in social expectancies and etiquette continued with his detective demeanour. ‘What do you want Mycroft?’  
‘I was just checking up on you.’  
‘As usual, you know it is unnecessary Mycroft, simple logic declares that I no longer need your care. In fact I don’t think I have ever needed it.’  
Sherlock’s expression became an elaborate challenge for his older brother to decipher.  
‘I cannot help that I care Sherlock. I am not as detached from natural feeling as you I am afraid, a strength I can’t deny that I wish I possessed.’ The older siblings grin was close to mockery.  
‘Honestly you two, leave it be. Sherlock play nice, Mycroft why are you really here?’  
‘Just checking you returned safely, I promise; and you know how much I value promises Dr.Watson.’ Much to John's disturbance, Mycroft looked much like the fantastical Cheshire cat. However, he had just paid for their holiday. A polite smile was all John replied.

Neither John nor Sherlock bought this 'promise', but it appeared that they wouldn’t get much out of him from this point on. I mean the man was practically government, the things he must not be allowed to tell. Why divulge anything at all.  
‘Tea’s ready.’  
Mycroft stood and waved away the hot beverage with a swift hand gesture, the previous entrance of John and Sherlock apparently waved away in the same movement.  
‘No I am afraid that I must leave, matters to attend to and such.’  
With obvious sarcasm Sherlock said ‘aww, what a shame.’ Whilst physically escorting him out using the palm of his hand he continued the same talk with ‘pop round any time now, goodbye now, goodbye.’ And just like that Mycroft was out the door. Both exhaled with relief, as Sherlock sipped the freshly made tea, John with a worried face said ‘do you think he knows?’  
‘Not a chance, he’s a self obsessed Pollock. Even if he does know he would have known before we went away John. I mean the man cannot keep any news related to me to himself. It is a genuine hindrance John, and a real mark of character. The balding, cake-loving, arse. If anyone were to deduce if he knew, it would be me. Now do relax soldier.’  
‘Fair enough. Do watch your language mind, you only get one brother’ John chuckled whilst bringing the hem of his warm mug to his lips; he loved it when Sherlock spoke with such conviction. It made him want to kiss that strong temple of his for holding such a brilliant brain. ¬¬¬


	2. Terms of Endearment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock get comfortable with the idea of being together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse my English spellings xD

The pair sat upright together in bed, Sherlock’s this evening. John was re-reading ‘To kill a mocking bird’ and Sherlock was reading Steve Jobs’ autobiography, he may have considered a single mans life to be trivial, but technology was undoubtedly fascinating, especially in the context of the development of crime. Sherlock wanted to be ready for when hacking really reached a level of poignancy, the police would obviously need his help, and they always did.  
They had been back from Scotland for a while now, domestic life had proved more fruitful than John had imagined. Admittedly, he was even briefly worried. He thought the entire holiday had been a bit of 'honeymoon-syndrome.' Maybe once returning to London it would all fall apart. However, thankfully, the opposite appears to have happened. They are now completely inseparable. Even Mrs.Hudson had noticed. John liked Sherlock’s room. Sleeping in it still felt new and naughty. They hadn’t arranged permanent place of sleep as of yet. That discussion will appear soon as it is unlikely for them to sleep apart any time soon (if ever.) John was thinking that as an incentive for officially having a bedroom that was both theirs, he would offer the secondary bedroom to become a lab for Sherlock’s experiments. Besides John thought that would prevent any more smells in the kitchen.

They had not said anything for a while. Sherlock’s cool fingers entwined in Johns, still looking at his page, just another night of forever, in their home. They had been platonic up until very recently, it all started whilst on that holiday; the holiday that Lestrade insisted that they take. It was Mycroft that offered the most luxurious lodging on the coast. Mycroft never liked being in anyone’s debt, and now he was free from Johns.  
They had been good friends, arguably best friends, working together to pay the ‘tedious’ bills before and let's be honest, they both needed it. All of it. The cases, the chases, the victims, the bad guys. Yet, the admission on both accounts that inescapably splurged out of them has changed their lives. So, arguably they now had all this happiness due to Lestrade’s stubbornness, Sherlock only agreed to go on the trip because Lestrade refused to let him on crime scenes. John reminded himself that he ought to buy Lestrade a drink later. Maybe even a few.

John innocently leaned over and pecked Sherlock on his damp lips. Although the positioning caused a slight crick in his neck, it was worth it. Gentle, almost marital. When John pulled away Sherlock chased him fervently. Sherlock reached John’s lips and pushed hard with his mouth. Both books now disposed, John happily responded, he thought they would take a break this evening but he isn’t exactly going to say no.  
Sherlock reached for John’s back and pulled their bodies close. John then placed his left hand delicately on Sherlock’s lower back. They had done all plausible sexual activities that could be perceived between men; it was always still exciting though. The kissing initially frantic, slowed, their breathing evened. Yet, Sherlock’s lower lip began to quiver. When it began John thought little of it, thought maybe Sherlock was trying something new, ever the experimenter and everything, but it got more and more violent, to the point that they had to stop their kiss.

‘Sherlock?’ breathed John, with concerned eyes.  
‘Sorry, I… I don’t know what happened’  
‘Don’t apologise Sherlock, what’s wrong?’  
‘I think I may, oh god…’  
‘Sshh it’s okay, talk to me.’  
Sherlock’s eyes in an instant overflowed with tears. They swelled out of his ducts in an unstoppable stream. He laid his head into John’s chest like a child seeking nothing besides warm skin and the comfort that would bring. John felt a swell of anxiousness hit his chest, had he done something wrong? Sherlock started to sob uncontrollably.  
‘Sherlock! Tell me!’  
‘Sorry, I think I just realised that we can’t fuck this up. I mean, we can’t get it wrong.’  
John stroked Sherlock’s back in a circular motion with his battle-warn fingertips. It had the desired effect and Sherlock soon started to control his breathing. With some awardable resolve Sherlock finally spoke; ‘We cannot afford to mess this up John, if we do I am afraid that I may lose you, that’s not possible now, I can’t live like that again.’  
John sensing the manic return spoke calmly.  
‘I agree Sherlock but I know it won’t happen.’  
‘How can you possibly say that John? Of all the external atrocities how can you make such a promise?’  
‘Even you cannot deduce what the future holds for us, but I know that I don’t want to be apart from you. I too don’t want to go back to the days of a psychosomatic limp and a night full of bad dreams. I too can’t live like that again. Also if you fake your death ever again I swear to god I will bring hell fire on not only your bloody, just, don’t fucking do that.’

John wasn’t really being serious but it was still a sensitive issue between them, and Sherlock’s biggest fear still remained to be expulsed from John’s magnificently normal and wonderful existence. Even though forgiveness had been duly demonstrated on that bomb of a train carriage, Sherlock still has not forgiven himself, even though he had obvious justification. It was for John, it was always for John. Sherlock looked up at John, green connecting with blue. A thankful smile slowly spread across both ageing faces. Tears now dry.  
‘But how can you be so confident? The statistics of relationships within the barrier of circumstance as close to ours surely have an awfully low success rate.’  
John gave a nonchalant shrug. ‘Because.’  
‘What do you mean ‘because’?!’ stated Sherlock with nothing but alarm.  
‘Okay, so you want the evidence for my certainty.’  
‘Please Dr. Watson’  
‘Okay.’  
John shifted his position so that their faces where at an equal level, shoulder-to-shoulder, eye-to-eye.

‘Sherlock Holmes, will you marry me?’  
The shock on Sherlock’s face was more evident than John’s obvious proof of permanence.  
‘Well, I…’  
‘Yes?’  
Sherlock's shock changed to a jesting flirt. Placing an index finger on his chin and acting like he was thinking awfully hard about the whole thing. John laughed. Sherlock was such a cheeky git. The drama-queen continued. ‘This is all terribly new John, and I mean me a married man? Can you imagine it? It is soooo very normal. G-o-l-d-f-i-s-h.’ Sherlock spelt out the word as if it were caviar he could easily come to like.  
‘You don’t say it like a bad thing detective.’  
‘Surprised?’  
‘If I was I would be offended sir!’ They both laughed, then the laughter was followed with a light kiss. John doubting himself, then pulled away and asked 'Wait that was a yes right?'  
‘I will agree to your terms of marriage mister’ practical knitted men’s wear’  
‘Oi!’

'Just speaking the truth John, you would fit in in an Marks and Spencers catalogue.'  
'How the hell do you know about Marks and Spencers and not space?!'

Sherlock began to laugh, and John couldn’t help but join in. He was to marry THE Sherlock Holmes. He felt the most giddy he’d ever felt. It appeared that Sherlock did too. The kissing re-entered into the affairs of the evening, and so they entered into a state of marital bliss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter Sherlock even makes tea!!  
> Hehe xx


	3. Forever and ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Engagement has lasted for less than a day, yet John makes a certain proposition.

In the morning John became very aware of the chest that lay beneath his face, yet again Sherlock was still under the sheets by sunrise, this had to be some kind of record. Unimaginable. His perfect pale form was breathing deeply; the deep relaxed noise of it nearly sent John back to sleep. Sherlock soon woke and uttered something so sweet that it nearly made John cry with both pride and utter joy.

‘Good morning hubby.’

The sensation that gave John was beyond expression. The smiles on their faces when they locked eyes on that fine morning were almost identical. They were so wide that you could count the majority of their teeth.  
‘Tea?’  
‘Tea.’  
As John got out of bed to make it, Sherlock objected with a strong palm to the chest and a defiant ‘No! You shall stay in bed Dr. Holmes!’  
‘Why thank you Mr. Watson’ John playfully replied.  
As Sherlock left the room with a fleeting glance at his army doctor, he whistled a jolly tune from entering the kitchen, through the boiling of the kettle, right until the mug was placed in John’s now awake hands.  
‘Cheers Hun’  
‘Oh so I am a ‘Hun’ now.’  
‘Yup.’  
‘As long as it isn’t sociopath or freak that’s good by me.’ John gave his fiancée a peck on the lips, but when he returned to the lip of his mug Sherlock’s words sunk in.  
‘I thought it didn’t bother you when people called you those things?’  
‘Well, not as much as it bothers you, but yes, I suppose it does sting from time to time.’  
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know.’  
‘Now, you’re the only one who knows.’  
John laughed a selfish little laugh, which made Sherlock smile and mustered more confidence in him to continue.  
‘Although it has never bothered me when idiots like Donovan and Anderson called me those things, because they cannot form a more intellectually challenging line of offense.’ This really made John laugh now. Fucking Donovan and Anderson.  
John would never forget when he told Anderson to face the wall, and Lestrade made it an official order. To think how dull his life was before he met Sherlock.

Maybe Sherlock was no longer a ‘high functioning sociopath’, possibly that act of simply making tea was the farewell to the last remains of it. John knows the real Sherlock it seemed. Maybe the whole thing was an act, the high and mighty lines, the coat and scarf, all a show, maybe. Part of the 'only consulting detective' brand. Since they got back from Scotland, Sherlock had been nothing but doting and gentlemanly. Would that change once Sherlock received a new case? John didn’t want to be ignored by Sherlock like he had been before, when a case consumed him. But, maybe things were different now, for Sherlock had just made him a cup of tea. Again Sherlock had defied the unimaginable. Once his laughter ended, John posed a question.

‘So, do you want to meet the in-laws?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LET'S MEET THE IN-LAWS...


	4. Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John prepares a meeting between Sherlock and his future in-laws.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short, next chapter is much longer promiseeeeeee

Whilst Sherlock hopped around the kitchen looking for god knows what John was on the phone to his mother.  
John hadn’t heard his mothers voice for so long, and he hasn’t seen her for even longer. A pang of guilt struck his gut.  
‘Hi mum.’  
‘John!! What a lovely surprise! How are you? Are you eating well? Do you have a big case at the moment?’  
‘Mum, I’m fine, yes, no not at the moment, just got back from Scotland actually.’  
‘Really, that’s nice John!’  
‘Yes, we went to the Isle of Skye, we being Sherlock and I, erm, anyway, I was wondering if we, as in Sherlock, and myself could come down for dinner at some point? I mean no rush or…’  
‘No! No! I have heard so much about Sherlock; we’d love to meet him wouldn’t we Larry?’  
A distant reply was heard on the other end.  
‘Okay, erm, great when suits you guys?’  
‘Today!!’  
‘Oh okay, are you sure? It’s a bit short notice, but yeah I mean that’s g..’  
‘I want to see you as soon as possible John!’ 'Right, well I mean great yeah. I'll check the train times and let you know what time we'll get there?' 'That is good with your father and I! See you soon dear!' 'Yup, alright mum, bye then, see you later.' John hung up and Sherlock looked mightily confused when John turned around. 'What is it? Is today not okay Sherlock?' 'No, no today is... good. Just, you didn't tell her you loved her. I would assume you would do that. Even as a sign off regardless of how much you loved her.' John didn't even realise it wasn't said. 'Oh right, well, I mean we don't do it always.' Sherlock was clearly learning a great deal about family behaviour already from John, and he hadn't even met them yet. Something about this clearly troubled Sherlock. His brow crinkled and he tried to go back to checking his hundreds of emails from possible clients without pressing the issue further, but John didn't want Sherlock to worry over it. John walked to Sherlock and put his arm over his shoulder. 'Sherlock just because it isn't said doesn't mean it isn't felt. I love my parents, and I know they love me. Nothing to worry about.' Sherlock relaxed at these words, and his brow unwrinkled and the smile returned. 'So, John, what is suitable attire for meeting your betrotheds' parents?'


	5. "Mum, Dad, Sherlock and I are..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John makes an announcement in front of Sherlock... and his own parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *giggles*

On the train ride to John’s childhood home, Sherlock looked so calm, how could a man about to meet two very important people look remotely calm?  
John on the other hand was terrified, he hadn’t decided if he was going to tell his parents about he and Sherlock.  
Sherlock had encouraged John to do so; he had deduced that John’s parents were nice people and the level of support he had noticed over the past few years suggests that they will love him no matter what, their age also meant that they wanted to see him settle down as soon as possible, not only that but everyone seems to think that John and he had been at it for years, so why should his parents be any different.  
This didn’t really make John feel any better.

When they arrived John asked for a moment before they went in.  
‘No.’  
‘What do you mean no?’  
‘John, you need to stop worrying, they are your parents, relax.’  
‘Coming from you? Relax, really? The man who rushes around London with those incredibly long legs.’ John had not intended that to be almost complimentary but it happened now.  
‘Yes John.’

Sherlock rung the doorbell and John scowled at him. The door was open before John could say anything.  
‘Hello Mrs. Watson.’ Sherlock addressed a very flustered Mary Watson.  
‘Oh hello, you must be Sherlock, lovely to meet you.’  
‘Quite.’  
‘John, hello dear, you look well honey.’  
‘Thanks, I mean, hi mum.’

He kissed his mother on the cheek. His dad, Larry came running down the stairs eagerly.  
‘John!’  
‘Hi dad.’  
The men shook hands. ‘Hello Sherlock, nice to finally meet you.’  
‘Yes, it is.’  
‘Well dinner is almost ready folks.’  
They all shuffled their way through to the living the room.

‘Wait.’  
They all turned to John and he hesitated over his recent decisiveness.  
‘Erm, I just need to say something.’  
‘What is it son?’  
His parent’s expression turned to worry.  
Sherlock gave a comforting look, which willed John to continue.  
‘Well, I, I don’t know how to say this but Mum, Dad… oh god.’  
‘John you’re scaring me.’  
‘Sherlock and I are erm...’  
His mother potentially relieved by the progress of her son’s admission intercepted ‘are together?’ John took a while to answer as his mother’s announcement, was well, exact. How could she possibly have known?  
‘Well yes.’  
‘Oh is that it?’  
John’s parents shrugged as if it was no surprise at all, John didn’t know if he should be relieved of questioning his abilities of secrecy. Bloody Sherlock, always right.  
They individually walked over and hugged their son. It appeared that after everything their children had put them through, good and bad, they were indeed the accepting kind.  
‘So it isn’t a big deal you guys?’  
‘No don’t be silly son. After all your sister Harry is a lesbian.’  
‘Right, of course, I mean silly me, I guess I, and how’d you know?’ John asked stumbling over his words fairly painfully.  
‘You acted this way almost twenty years ago when you brought that girl in.’  
‘How?!’  
‘Well you had the same worried face, like we were going to judge you or something.’  
‘Anyway I would rather it was someone like Sherlock against that Lacey girl, that was her name right Mary?’  
‘Yes, Larry it was Lacey.’  
‘Oh, so you guys are good? With this?’ John waved his hand in between Sherlock and himself.  
‘Yes, John we are. Now sit down.’ Demanded his mother whilst serving the soup.  
It was all fine, better than fine.


	6. "Have you consummated your relationship John?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After John and Sherlock confess their relational status to John's parents, John's mother is fairly interested in their sex life. Hilarity ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LERV IT

Dinner was initially uncomfortable for the circumstance of relationships had shifted. But soon the tension eased, and Sherlock was being, to the shock of John, polite.  
His mother spoke first over their soup, ‘so have you consummated your relationship?’  
‘Mum!!!’ John sputtered.  
Sherlock answered immediately ‘Yes we have.’  
‘Sherlock!’  
‘What, we have?’  
John put down his soupspoon in a clatter. His cheeks were now bright red and his hands had found his greying head.  
His mother’s intrigue deepened.  
‘Consummated how? I don’t know how it works. I do apologize. Old generation and all that.’  
Again Sherlock replied immediately.  
‘Everything a woman would do to a man, including anal penetration. Of course everything without vaginal permeation. John and I do not possess such anatomy.’  
‘SHERLOCK.’  
John was now truly horrified. His mother with a concerned hand said ‘Did it hurt John?’  
‘Mum!!!!!’ Sherlock couldn’t help himself but laugh. It was all going far better than he had expected.  
‘What? I am only curious, it’s meant to feel really good for men?’  
At this point Larry interjected.  
‘Mary!’ exclaimed just as horrified as John. Like father like son.  
‘What it is? Am I right?’  
‘Well biologically men’s ‘G’ spots are located within the anus, meaning that men are supposed to experience a pleasure as extreme as a woman does, because a woman’s ‘G’ spot is within the vagina. I must admit that I wasn’t an expert until recently.’

‘Thank, you, Sherlock. When did you lose your prudeness?!’ The natural sassy sarcasm was now returning to John.  
‘That isn’t a word John, also I’ve told you before that sex doesn’t make me uncomfortable.’  
‘Maybe we should give it a go Larry?’  
John sank his head even lower ‘I can’t believe I am hearing this.’  
‘Oh John, honestly, we could Larry, I’ve already got a dildo.’  
‘RIGHT THAT’S IT.’  
Larry even started to become curious. Leaning forward he asked ‘Does it feel that good John?’  
‘DAD!’  
‘I have first hand knowledge that John thinks it feels magnificent… Larry.’  
‘SHERLOCK.’  
‘Oh, right.’ Answered Larry a little bit embarrassed after his admitted interest.  
Sherlock gave the advice of ‘use plenty of lube, makes entrance easier.’  
‘STOP. NOW.’  
‘It’s alright John’ his mum mused.  
‘I didn’t anticipate you to be THIS bloody open.’  
‘I told you earlier not to worry John, my deductions are always right.’  
‘Well, you two go to church, and I thought they didn’t like that sort of stuff.’  
‘We’ve been meaning to not go for ages’ Larry suggested.  
‘It is just habit I suppose’ commented Mary. After a brief moment of silence, they all returned to their broth.


	7. SMUTLOCK TIME

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a very successful dinner with John's parents, Sherlock and John feel like celebrating...

John and Sherlock made their way home via the last train of the night. They walked arm in arm up to their front door. Both pleased with how the evening’s events occurred. They had had several successful days and both felt contented with a quiet night in. Besides, maybe tomorrow all hell would break loose if Lestrade rung with a case. Even Sherlock was enjoying the little rest; of course he would never admit that fact to John, but John knew, he was the only one who possibly could.

‘After you madam’  
‘Why thank you sir’ swooned John.  
They headed up the stairs and into their little abode. ‘Tea John?’  
‘Of course Sherlock.’  
‘Right then you head to bed and I shall make tea.’  
‘Wow.’  
‘What is it?’  
‘You just seem different is all?’  
‘Well, yesterday I became a fiancée.’  
John let out a little giggle. ‘I like it Sherlock.’  
‘I deduced you would. Now get yourself under those sheets.’  
‘Clothes?’  
‘Surprise me.’  
John headed through Sherlock’s bedroom door and stripped, feeling very naked he jumped under the covers and shuffled to surround himself with warmth.  
To John’s surprise Sherlock entered several minutes later wearing absolutely nothing. He had seen Sherlock naked many times before, but it was still a lovely surprise.  
Holding a mug in each hand he looked as if he believed that he was still fully clothed, not a hint of embarrassment on his face.

‘Oh why hello.’  
‘Hello John.’  
Sherlock handed him the tea and climbed in elegantly. Mug always level and never even close to spilling. That childhood ballet really must have helped him with that.  
‘Thank you Sherlock.’  
‘You’re welcome.’  
‘You were very good tonight.’  
‘Thank you.’  
‘Did Sherlock Holmes just say thank you?’  
‘I meant to say ‘as always’.’  
‘You.’ They shared a mutual laugh.

Both taking their first sip, John had a whipping thought.  
‘Sherlock, do you have any parents you want to tell?’  
John was so preoccupied with telling his own, he forgot about Sherlock’s inclinations. He had never heard Sherlock talk to an extent about who brought him to this planet, and John thought it polite to ask, even if his response was no.

‘Both my parents are dead John.’  
‘Sorry, I thought they might be, you have never talked about them much.’  
‘Yes well my childhood is not something I try to talk about.’

John put down his mug and kissed Sherlock on the cheek gently. In response, Sherlock too put down his mug and took John’s fingers in his hand and fiddled with them using his own.

‘What happened? To them I mean?’  
‘Well, my father had Angina pectoris.’  
‘We didn't cover that at med' school? Sorry, I apparently specify in bullet wounds.’  
Despite the situation Sherlock managed a light laugh. Still appreciative of John's humour, he then gravely continued with the words ‘Heart attack.’  
‘Oh sorry.’  
‘Don’t be, he was more than an arse.’  
‘Abusive?’  
‘Do you know many unemployed alcoholics who aren’t?’  
‘No I suppose not. To you and your mother?’  
‘He was abusive to my brother and me from time to time, but to my mother the most. She protected us fairly well.’  
‘What happened?’  
‘He died when I was in Uni.’  
‘And your mother?’  
‘The cruelty of it John.’  
Sherlock gave a big sigh. It seemed he had never spoken to anyone about this, and so it was new territory.  
‘When my father died, I was relieved because I wasn’t very comfortable with leaving mummy with him. So when he died, she was free. But of course, the world works in such a way that she died shortly after.’  
‘Jesus.’  
‘Quite.’

There was a quiet pause between them; they both stared at John’s cuticles that rested in Sherlock’s hands.

‘What was her funeral like?’  
‘I didn’t go.’  
John was surprised but he didn’t show it.  
‘Why?’  
‘Several reasons. Logistically it would have been difficult, as I had no money in which to get there, but I know that isn’t the real reason because if I asked anyone to borrow money to attend my own mother’s funeral, whoever it was, they would have surely given it to me. I think I partly didn’t want to go simply because my brother wanted me to and partly because I wanted all of it over, I wanted to be a sociopath at that time, I wanted to feel nothing.’

John thought for a moment. Sherlock looked at John’s face for the first time since this conversation began.  
‘Do you think less of me?’ Sherlock asked with his puppy eyes at their most endearing.  
‘No. In fact I think more of you. It makes sense. You make more sense to me now.’  
A wave of relief swept over Sherlock’s face, his whole body relaxed and sunk deeper into the mattress.

‘I lost my virginity the night of her funeral too.’  
‘With Victor?!’  
Sherlock could not help but crack a smile. The discussion of Victor before made John particularly jealous, but in the context Sherlock was sure this would not make John feel that way. It seemed that honesty really was the best policy; Sherlock was starting to see that for the first time in his life.

‘I was very frustrated by even the idea that I was feeling something, I was sad, and this sadness became a weakness to me and I could not concentrate on anything. I tried everything to stop feeling John, I went to my mind palace, I played the violin and it seemed like only one thing would quiet the thoughts I didn’t ask for; drink. It was the first time I had ever consumed alcohol for anything other than academic purposes or investigative reasons. Obviously my father put me off drink forever, and as you know John, alcohol slows the rate of thinking and cognitive function, and that normally is awfully frustrating, but that night it is all I wanted. So, I drank and drank and drank. Victor found me in a stupor and we ended up, well, sleeping together. I do not remember much of it but I remember it hurt. He was definitely not gentle with me, and I felt disgusting in the morning, not because of the hang over, because as you know John I never get hangovers, I felt disgusting because of…’  
‘Victor.’  
‘Yes.’  
‘He took advantage of you.’

Sherlock gave a weak smile. John felt more sorry for his Sherlock than ever before, all he wanted to do was to protect him, to hold him and tell him that everything was going to be better soon. He had felt brief moments of sympathy before now, but only due to the knowledge of what it must have been like to be in Sherlock’s head, the never-ending thoughts making a web of information for a cause, or rather a need for purpose. He didn’t deserve any of that. No one did, but Sherlock especially, such a brilliant mind should not have to use room to memorize such horrid events.

Seeing the worry in the lines of John’s face Sherlock used that baritone voice of his to soothe. ‘Hush now. Drink your tea. Besides all that matters is that Mary and Larry are pals with me.’  
‘Pals?’  
‘Shut up John.’ They both giggled as they reached for their individual mugs, adjoining hands still intertwined.

They sipped in unison, both feeling the hot sensation go down their throats all the way to their stomachs. John hummed in appreciation for the warmth.  
‘How is my tea making skill coming along?’  
‘Am I the expert now?’  
‘Obvious.’  
John liked this playful side of Sherlock, usually on cases, amongst officers it was used in a much more sarcastic way. The flirtatious purpose was a lovely change, and it was all for John, he didn’t know if he would ever not appreciate the private side of Sherlock.  
‘Your tea is lovely darling.’  
‘Oh so I am a darling now? Yesterday I was ‘hun’, and now I am a ‘darling.’  
‘Complaining?’  
‘Of course not John! I am offended by the notion! Tell me more names, I’ve never been given any nice names John.’  
Sherlock’s childlike mannerisms really shined through in that moment. His eyes gleamed and his smile widened making his face seem youthful. Balancing the mug with an elegant hand he moved to turn his whole body on his side almost as if he wanted to maximize the experience of John.  
Sherlock’s eagerness made John hungry to please his fiancée.  
‘Okay well, let me think, so we have had ‘hun’ and ‘darling’, what about baby?’  
‘John, c’mon I deserve better than baby’ Sherlock spat the word as if it were sickly, like very dark chocolate, or a strong malt whiskey or an overpowering sour fueled sweet.  
‘Yes. You. Do. Well, if you don’t like baby then you most definitely will not like angel.’  
Sherlock shivered at the word, making John giggle.

John pondered for a brief moment then said questionably ‘sweetheart?’  
‘Hmm, yes I rather like sweetheart actually. Perfectly valid when used. Another!’ Sherlock demanded.  
John remembering that sweetheart was a useable term of endearment then continued,  
‘Well it seems that you do not like the really cheesy ones, rather the more commonly used old fashion type words, so how about simply love?’  
‘Love? Yes, mmm, love, love, love, love.’  
Sherlock repeated the word as if molding it with his tongue.  
John waited patiently as he looked at the younger now concentrated face.  
‘Yes I do like that too, love, simple but effective.’ John beamed, pleased at his little accomplishment.  
‘But are there any exciting ones for more specified times?’  
‘You really are a novice at this aren’t you love’ John responded whilst intentionally using the word. This made Sherlock beam further.  
‘I tell you what, why don’t you try Sherlock? I bet you’ll be good at the racier ones’ said John whist placing his now empty mug on the bedside table.

‘Well evidence dictates that sexy is easily applicable to yourself.’  
John could not stop his cheeks from turning red but he was very flattered.  
‘Same for you… sexy.’  
They both laughed at the testing of the word. It felt alien but fun at the same time.

‘But I think I know the best one of all John, which if I am correct, which I always am, can be used in every scenario.’  
Sherlock’s gaze became all of sudden intense, predatory, sexy.  
John swallowed hard feeling the change coming from Sherlock.  
‘Oh really? Do tell’ said John playing along ever so well despite the heat that spread around his body.  
Sherlock reached over John so that their chests brushed against one another. Sherlock placed his empty mug next to John’s on the bedside table and then brought his hand up to rest on John’s right cheek, their faces now very close together, in one swift motion Sherlock moved his lips to John’s now tingling ear.  
John felt Sherlock’s hot breath on his skin. He liked wherever this was heading.

Sherlock whispered incredibly gently one word with three very powerful syllables;

‘Beautiful.’

Immediately John responded by pressing his lips hard onto Sherlock’s exposed neck and Sherlock moved so that his lips became easy access. They kissed initially desperate and hungry, but it became tentative and gentle. The word ‘beautiful’ travelled around the room and bounced off the walls to return to their gradually increasing vehement bodies. Sherlock pushed John down onto the bed so that he was on top of his military betrothed instead of reaching for him.

John’s practiced hands moved down Sherlock’s spine making him shiver and traced circles on the bottom of his backbone, leaving goose bumps in their wake. In a form of reply Sherlock moved both hands, one to massage the back of John’s neck and the other to gently pull at his hair, making John moan softly. To show how much he appreciated the gesture John lightly bit at Sherlock’s lower lip with his teeth. A moan also escaped from Sherlock making John immediately do it again, this time a little harder than before. Beautiful was definitely the right choice of word to make John do this. Their tongues soon clashed and the taste of aromatic English breakfast tea was shared between them. Each movement produced some form of pleasure from one or the other, and now that they had done this a few times, each new what their partner liked, making the experience much less tense than the first hungry night of sex they had had together. This, was something new, it felt safe and brought the feeling of belonging, an emotion of being in exactly the right place, as if it were by design, puzzle pieces connecting, stars aligning, nothing was forced here. It didn’t need to be. There was not an ounce of expectation, no worry of doing wrong. Just warmth, friendship and yes, love.

Love was new territory for both men, John had thought that he had loved someone before, but compared to this he doubted that now, and Sherlock had never let anyone close enough to possibly whisper the idea without offense to even his fingertips, never mind his heart. But, the evidence of such pure emotion would make it difficult to take love away from this picture. Beautiful indeed.

Sherlock moved his left hand from John’s neck down his chest, and from there he tiptoed his way across John’s stomach to his firm length that John no longer wanted anyone to touch for the rest of his days, beside his best friend and future husband. An eager whimper escaped John’s throat. Sherlock began to move his hand, John feeling close already pulled away from the kiss making Sherlock desperately follow and then try to reclaim John’s slightly distended lips with his own.

‘Sherlock this will be over sooner than either of us would like if you do that much more’ breathed John as matter of fact as he could muster, but it proved difficult as he squeaked several times and the desired conviction lagged with just how breathless he had apparently become.  
‘Oh, I think we could continue for a while longer after Dr. Watson, we are not after all, that old’ said Sherlock with a trademark wicked grin.  
‘Is that a challenge?’  
Before Sherlock could vocally reply, John had already made up his mind and soon his thighs were wrapped around Sherlock’s sharp pelvis. It appeared that Sherlock’s choice of words had once again succeeded him. Their lips naturally reconnected and Sherlock moved his hand to his stomach were John’s essentials for the activity lay stiff and ready. At the touch John breathed heavily and he rolled onto his side, bringing Sherlock with him so that they lay in a tangle facing each other. Sherlock impatient as ever pushed John onto his back with both hands against fervent shoulders and his lips started moving south, kissing each muscle and bone he passed, like a train stopping on its journey, but with set destination in mind.

Initially he positioned himself so that their hands could intertwine at either side of John’s ribs and soon the kisses turned into tastes and pulls using his tongue, the well known pressure points were soon found and used with a delicate pace and care. Sherlock was good at responding to John’s noises and facial expressions, deducing came in handy it seems in every situation, John’s needs were put into practice simply by Sherlock observing. John’s entire form relaxed into the mattress and his eyes fluttered occasionally as if the bright light of paradise was on the inside of his eyelids. His breathing became audible through open lips and it varied depending upon Sherlock’s actions. Soon John’s hands tightened and squeezed Sherlock’s knuckles white, the back of his knees began to feel perspired, his face clenched and his stomach tightened revealing the expanse of his abdominal muscles.  
‘Sherlock’ was all John breathed in his moments of climax.  
Sherlock felt completely satisfied at rewarding John for, he concluded everything.  
He had never found pleasure in sexually giving or receiving before these past few weeks with John, although Sherlock hated the word, it was liberating. He gave one last kiss just above John’s naval and then returned home to his now parched lips. John’s eyelids still fluttered amongst paradise, but he too was returning home. When he opened his eyes, he was glad to see Sherlock’s happy face focusing all his attention on him. John swallowed and said clearly and without any hint of hesitation ‘Sherlock, that was fucking incredible.’  
Sherlock’s face now became pink. Sherlock Holmes was blushing. He rather awkwardly looked down at the sheets, and rubbed the hair on the back of his head smooth against his neck using his free hand. John kissed his nose and then each cheek before giving a quick peck at his bow shaped top lip.  
Snuggling into Sherlock, John reached over the only man in his life and rested his hand about half way down his back and nuzzled his face into Sherlock’s neck, kissing it softly.  
‘Tell me what you want. Anything Sherlock.’  
‘Can you call me it?’ with an emphasis on me rather than it.  
‘It?’ John asked mildly but with a quizzical voice.  
‘No, I mean, the word, the word I said earlier.’  
After a moment John realised and smiled that Sherlock too felt the requirement for that name whilst it had now been stated in such a manner.  
On feeling the importance of the moment John pulled Sherlock closer and looking into his uniquely coloured eyes  
‘Beautiful. You, are, beautiful Sherlock.’ Now the emphasis was on the you and the are. It seems that John also knew the right words and in fact how to use them.

Sherlock didn’t believe in the word before that moment. He just saw skin on bodies that all functioned the same with a degree of variables, but when John used it, more specifically when John used it on him it felt like everything would be alright. Every problem that has the potential to occur no longer was a problem. The word mixed with his voice and his focused attention collectively provided hope and a future that not long ago Sherlock ever conceived to be possible, and in disbelieving he also inadvertently pushed it away. He threw himself into his work and left no room in that brilliant head and large heart of his. He never let anyone past his fences, but John somehow managed to slip through, under or over the gate. It doesn’t matter how for Sherlock was very grateful that he did.

The next kiss was better whilst all this went through his head. He gave all of those thoughts to John through his lips and John passed similar ones back. How could this ever get dull, become normal, it couldn’t surely. It was much too exciting and this moment felt like it had the potential of forever.  
‘Your… turn’ John breathed at short intervals between kisses.  
‘Excellent’ Sherlock returned in the same fashion.  
‘How… would… you… like it?’  
‘However the Doctor orders.’  
‘God you’re good.’  
‘Good?’  
‘Suave.’ The kissing now stopped and Sherlock needed more information out of this.  
‘Suuuavvvve hmmm, another new word that has never been applied to me.’  
‘Sherlock, you are the definition of suave, you wear suits all the time and you have a face that wouldn’t look out of place in a GQ magazine.’  
‘GQ magazine?!’  
‘Just you are suave as fuck okay.’  
‘I like it when you talk this way John. Gives me butterflies, no one has ever given me butterflies how do you do it?’  
‘Well ya’ know I may be short but I can easily put on the charm for certain Sherlock Holmes’’  
They both chuckled.  
‘John I think we should have sex on the floor.’  
John’s recent charm stifled in a shocked cough. He had always wanted to have floor sex. Just the idea was getting him hard again.  
He cleared his throat with a sort of ahem sound.  
‘Right well, I, I mean yes that is an, that’s a brilliant idea.’  
Sherlock soothed his awkwardness with a soft kiss on the lips.  
John quickly replied by climbing out of bed and walking as if to leave the bedroom.  
Sherlock now alarmed ‘John where are you going?!’  
John’s shock had left and the playfulness now returned.  
‘I agreed to floor sex but I decide where we have it, follow me Detective Holmes.’  
Sherlock’s jaw dropped and he practically jumped out of the bed to join his fiancée. John had already made it to the living room and he turned to a puppy like Sherlock with who was practically salivating.

‘Sherlock.’  
‘John.’  
John slightly stood on his toes to reach the now full standing Sherlock. The kissing was delicate and considerate. Hands locked around alternate waists and John slowly sunk to the floor, where Sherlock followed. Sherlock was now on top of John, but after all it was Sherlock’s turn so John rolled over and they repositioned so now John was comfortably above.  
John was kissing Sherlock’s collarbones when he had a stricken thought.  
‘Shit we don’t have any condoms!’  
‘So? We have had sex without condoms before?’  
‘But it hurt you last time, I don’t like hurting you, and you can give me all that spiel about how much you like it, but I don’t.’  
‘Okay. Well, I mean we have lube and how about if I promise to tell you if it hurts to allow you to stop will you agree to the terms of continuation?’  
‘Okay.’

Both men hesitated for a second, Sherlock wanted to ensure that this was what John wanted, and John wanted Sherlock to know that this was all he wanted forever. He always knew the right words though.  
John continued his assurance with ‘Okay beautiful.’  
Sherlock smiled and kissed the clever man.  
They sank into what was to be a new past time. Floor sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMEXY  
> How was that? Too much? Too much.  
> Enough fluff though right?  
> There can never be too much fluff.


	8. Sherlock's beautiful surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John wakes up, but whilst Sherlock is no longer lying in their makeshift bed in the living room, there is a note with a very luring invitation...

It seems that the record was to be broken; John awoke on the makeshift bed in the living room with no Sherlock to be seen. John knew it would come eventually, and he didn’t worry about it too much, I mean the possibility of marriage outweighed all discomfort. So, John initially confused now stilled into a calm relaxation mixed with post sex and a pillow that smelled like Sherlock. Bringing through the duvet to the living room was a bloody marvelous suggestion on Sherlock’s part. John was cozy and excited for the day ahead, maybe a case wouldn’t be a bad thing after all. John’s belly gave a rumble and he got up to explore the kitchen cupboards.  
On realizing how cold it was he went and put on his fiancés far too long navy silk dressing gown. John wondered briefly at the cost of such an item but soon busied himself with tea and jam on toast.  
When he sat down at the table with his tea and awaiting the toast to charcoal just the way he liked it, he noticed a note on the table.

It read ‘To my gorgeous John, I apologise for not being present this morning, I may or may not have a surprise in store, I will most likely be a few hours so in order of assured entertainment you will find a shoe box behind the television. See you there, love Sherlock.’  
This man would never cease to surprise John. He smiled to himself and a pang of pride swelled at the fact that his Sherlock had used the word ‘gorgeous’ just before his name. Especially as gorgeous wasn’t an endearment he had mentioned the night before. As John eagerly made his way to the TV set he pondered on whether or not Sherlock had googled ‘appropriate endearments to use on your fiancé.’ Whatever he did it bloody had the right affect.

Sure enough a shoebox waited. John opened it to find a rather thick envelope, waxed and sealed.  
‘You fancy lil’ shit’ John said to himself.  
In order not to ruin the paper he got a knife from the kitchen and swiped under the wax to make a clean break. Inside was a large folded piece of paper.  
As he unraveled it he realised that it would take up a large amount of room, so he laid it on the table, and sure enough it covered practically the entire marble island. It appeared to be a family tree.  
Written on the top in fancy calligraphy were the words ‘Meet my family John.’  
It was more than impressive. There were Dukes and Lords and scholars everywhere. John started at Sherlock and Mycroft and worked his way through every name with a tentative fingertip before reaching the top. Once looking through all the names, John returned to the envelope with a contented smile. Inside was a little neon yellow post it note, with the words ‘left over pickles.’

John initially confused soon with excitement ran to the cupboards. He found the pickles that a very odd client gave them after a free meal many moons ago. He opened the jar and found swimming with the definitely fermenting pickles a small plastic bag. John washed it and then opened it to find another post it note, this time it was pink, and the words in Sherlock’s childlike hand wrote ‘Get dressed Dr. Watson.’

John was getting very excited now. He was going on an adventure. He ran upstairs to his small room and opened his draw with his doctor’s attire. Inside was an old fashioned razor and a label attached saying, ‘John, the barber Gino would very much like to meet you.’  
John mouthed at the scribble ‘Gino the barber?’  
John didn’t remember a client called Gino who owned a barbershop. He got dressed into a favourite jumper and jeans and headed back down stairs to grab the laptop. He quickly googled ‘Gino barber shop London.’  
182’000 results. This obviously was not what Sherlock meant for him to do. Maybe Sherlock had overestimated his intelligence again.  
He looked at the old-fashioned razor and googled ‘old barber shop Baker Street.’ The first link was to a map showing a ‘Vincenzo Barber shop’ on a very close Weymouth Street. That had to be it. Gino in the Vincenzo barber shop. Like a murder mystery all by itself.

John grabbed his keys, phone and jacket and headed down the stairs at an alarming pace. The smile on his face however was anything but alarmed. This really was entertainment.  
As he closed the front door he breathed ‘Sherlock I bloody love you.’  
The four streets between Baker Street and Weymouth Street seemed to take a lot longer than the reality of how fast John’s legs were travelling. And then there it was. Number 57, racing green paint with golden writing, ‘Vincenzo Barber Shop.’  
This place had definitely been in Marylebone for a long time.

John walked over the threshold into the warmth and asked ‘Hi I am looking for Gino.’  
A very friendly Italian man proceeded from the back, ‘Ah, you must be Doctor Watson. I am supposed to offer you a shave on the house.’  
‘Okay. Marvelous.’  
John was giddy. He sat in the chair offered and got one of the best shaves of his life.  
On wiping his face clean, Gino stated ‘Queen Mary waits for you.’  
Queen Mary? Think John think.  
Queen Mary’s Gardens!  
‘Thank you very much Gino!’  
John shouted as he skipped out the shop. John didn’t care for walking now, he ran all the way to Regents Park. The gardens were so large though, how on earth was he supposed to find whatever it was he was looking for. It must be personalized. Sherlock must have said something about the gardens. Something significant. Had he missed something? John thought about all the clues. All were stepping-stones. All except for the family tree. That was the beginning. There must be something in it. There were so many names though. Queen Mary. Was Sherlock related to royalty? No that can’t be it. Well maybe. John’s mother was called Mary. At the dinner table John left to use the toilet at some point, Sherlock must have asked her something. He pulled out his phone and rang his mum.  
‘Hi Mum, yes, yes I am fine, listen, mum, listen, did Sherlock ask you about Queen Mary’s gardens? No? Okay what about, erm, what about just gardens, just gardens in general. Flowers! Flowers yes good, okay, he asked you what your favourite flowers are?’  
And then it hit him. His mum’s favourite flowers were roses, more specifically white roses. He needed to go to the award winning rose garden. ‘I got it mum! Thanks so much, see you soon!!’ John hung up and sprinted to the rose garden. Right in the center were 100 or so white roses, he hopped over and as he got closer he could see a corner of a white envelope sticking out of the earth.  
‘Yeeessssss.’  
He pulled it out and opened it, this time taking no care in his impatience.

It read ‘Well well Dr.Watson you are doing a fine job, nice shave by the way. I always said I preferred my doctor’s clean-shaven. In the envelope there is a invitation from Shakespeare, don’t be late to the theatre now.’

Sure enough, inside there were two tickets to ‘Much Ado about nothing’ at the Regents park open-air theater. John laughed whole-heartedly to himself. He saw that he had time to walk and not run, so that is what he did. Enjoying the garden and the fact that two tickets lay inside, meaning that John knew he would be seeing Sherlock very soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> awwwwwwwwwwwww fluffffffff


	9. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock are reunited after John successfully solves Sherlock's series of riddles.  
> FEEEEELS. GOOD FEELS THOUGH.

John pondered about what the afternoon might have ahead. Floor sex seemed appealing, but maybe they really should take a break. John had never had this much sex in a consecutive amount of days, and he was ‘Three Continents Watson.’ 17 days.  
He thought of last night’s wonderful events, and then there he was. The almost cutely nervous looking Sherlock. With his Belstaff coat and his blue scarf and limbs that went on forever. His eyes were wide and John watched as he checked his watch several times. John was close to tears. This wonderful man had just set up this whole thing just for him. He had given him a family tree, his biology, his DNA, what meant he was here, and it seems that Sherlock forever wanted to make John happy. Sherlock saw John then and he beamed. Pleased that he had figured it all out.  
However the smile was brief. In John’s emotional state he must have looked sad, but he was the opposite. John walked towards him and Sherlock walked towards John.  
Sherlock was concerned ‘John? John, are you alright? Sorry, oh God I’m sorry, what happened?!’  
‘No Sherlock I am happy, they are happy tears I promise.’ John started to laugh. Then they were embracing. Sherlock’s tense shoulders relaxed.  
‘Sherlock that was extremely considerate and you have made me the happiest man on the planet.’ They both gave a happy sigh.  
The kiss that followed was one of gratitude. Sherlock was grateful that John was here with him and John was grateful for Sherlock and that head of his.

‘Now John, may I take you to the theatre?’  
‘You may.’  
They walked in, tickets ready, arm in arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final Chapter next, sad sad sad times.


	10. Conclusion at Angelo's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a fabulous day, Sherlock makes a very brave admission to John, his now fiance, Champagne becomes a welcome accessory.

As they sat into a booth in Angelo’s Sherlock commented ‘that is probably my favourite Shakespeare comedy.’  
‘I actually hadn’t seen that one Sherlock, it was bloody marvelous.’  
‘I knew you would like it. We’ll do tragedy next.’  
‘Let me guess, Hamlet is your favourite?’  
‘How on earth did you deduce that John?’  
‘Suffering man who loses his mind because of his intellect and existential crisis about his family. Who then proceeds to die in fighting for justice and because he was correct the entire time. So you.’  
Sherlock chuckled.  
‘You must admit though that it directs every cosmological question John, ‘to be or not to be,’ pure genius.’  
‘You are quite the fan girl aren’t you Sherlock. I’ve never heard you call anyone else a genius before.’  
‘I thought you were a genius last night.’  
‘Sherlock! Public!’  
‘Yes alright sorry.’ Sherlock’s wink was beyond seductive. Maybe 18 days wouldn’t do any harm.  
‘Okay if you don’t love Shakespeare as much as I, I fear this may not end well John.’ Sherlock’s jesting would always be entertaining.  
‘Well Sherlock, I must admit that King Lear is probably my favourite tragedy.’  
‘Oh really? Lear? I thought you were of a Macbeth kind, what with the war and everything.’  
‘There is war in Lear too, but Macbeth is far too pagan for me. No, no, I like the reconciliation between Lear and Cordelia. It may be a tragic play in every sense but at least he sees her again and there is some sort of redemption.’  
‘I admire your optimism John. Something I hope to do better.’ He was very complimentary today wasn’t he?  
‘The storm scene is also bloody fantastic.’  
‘Who’s the fan girl now?’  
‘Yes alright Detective alright.’

Angelo then brought over the various free pastas and such; ‘Here you are boys, and congratulations on your engagement, I will get Champagne!’  
‘Thank you Angelo’ said John with some garlic bread in his mouth.  
‘When did you tell him Sherlock?’  
‘On the phone this morning. Problem?’  
‘Not at all, just you know we haven’t planned a wedding or anything.’  
‘No rush John, don’t worry.’  
They both ate rather ravenously; John hadn’t even managed his jam on toast amidst the excitement. Sherlock’s eating had been very consistent recently; maybe he would even eat during cases now.

‘Did I ever tell you about Mary?’  
‘Your mother Mary?’  
‘No, no a different Mary, when you were dead?’  
‘Oh, no I don’t believe you did.’  
‘I think she fell in love with me.’  
‘Well Dr. Watson, it is hard not to do so.’  
‘Careful, don’t let my ego get too big now.’ Said John rather dramatically pointing his fork in Sherlock’s direction. He continued ‘I brought her here once, very big mistake, I burst into tears and had to go home.’  
Sherlock swallowed.  
‘I am sorry John.’  
‘No Sherlock, I’m sorry for head butting you in that café.’ John began to laugh but Sherlock didn’t join in this time.  
John looked up from his plate at a tearful man.  
‘Sherlock, it’s okay, honestly you didn’t have a choice. I may not know the exacts but I know that much.’ John leaned over and squeezed his arm. The touch made Sherlock’s chest puff out as if he was attempting to find courage somewhere.  
‘John, they were, they were going to shoot you.’  
‘They were wha…’  
‘And Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade. Mori, Moriarty had snipers on you and he said if I didn’t jump he would make the orders. I then had to continue convincing them that I was dead until I had destroyed the network in order that no one could kill any of you.’  
Sherlock was undoubtedly crying now, his lower lip quivered as if this information had been chewing at his gums. John shuffled over and pushed his head gently to the curve of his own neck. He rubbed his back with a circular palm and hushed him.  
‘You are so brave Sherlock. Why didn’t you tell me this before?’  
‘I don’t want you to feel in danger. If you do feel that way, I am afraid that you’ll leave.’  
‘I feel safest by your side Sherlock, I would never leave you, that is a promise.’  
This slowed Sherlock’s breathing enormously.  
‘Sorry.’  
‘You don’t need to apologise love.’  
Sherlock righted himself and straightened his suit.

‘Champagne gentlemen?’  
‘Please Angelo.’  
Sherlock’s voice had returned to a smooth baritone, and he let out a relieved smile in John’s direction. John emanated much of the same look.  
There glasses were now full and they were raised.  
‘To not being dead Sherlock.’  
‘To living forever with you John.’  
‘Ooooo I like that one.’  
They both took a sip and gave each other a light peck before returning to their meals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ly all x


	11. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo, been a while for this fic. But I have had a request to bring it back so here wE GO.  
> WARNING: THIS IS FULL OF JOHNLOCK FLUFF, SEXINESS AND KISSING. ALSO TEA. Enjoy x
> 
> Sherlock and John have returned home from a brilliant day and a suggestion of a film gets John setting up for a movie night. Amidst his preparations John cannot keep his hands off his betrothed and kissy kissy ensues in the kitchen. 
> 
> fav line of this chapter: 'to be the dopamine lathered cherry on top of the mother-fucking triple chocolate fudge cake with rainbow sprinkles.'

John and Sherlock returned to 221b after Angelo's, hand in hand the whole walk home. Sherlock had provided both he and John with a brilliant day, and now all he wanted was to snuggle up to his fiance and do something John wanted to do, John had always been wanting him to watch this film called "Top Gun." Sherlock had no idea what it was, by the name it probably had something to do with fighting. But Sherlock really didn't know or care. But if John wanted him to watch it, then it would mean that he would be able to sit next to his John for at least ninety minutes. How would he say no to that?

As John unlocked the front door Sherlock asked "John shall we watch Top Gun tonight?" John practically leapt through the door to land face down on the carpet. "Yes! Yes Sherlock! I've been trying to get you to watch that for years!! Brilliant!"

They collectively jogged up the stairs, John leading the way, and as they reached the top of the stairs Mrs. Hudson popped her head out her door and said "good night boys." Without even stopping or turning around both John and Sherlock said "Goodnight Mrs. Hudson" at the same time. She really did love them both. Neither parties could imagine the other not being there. It had become such a part of all three of their environments, if it were to change, god knows how they would all feel.

John and Sherlock threw their coats down onto John's chair (which hadn't been sat in since they got back.) John rubbed his hands together, "right detective, sit down and I am going to make us some tea and I got you a Bournville chocolate bar and me a Double Decker." They stopped off at an newsagents on the way home and John would not let Sherlock know what he was buying, much to Sherlock's impatience. Now he knew. He gave a staunch giggle and watched his fiance whistle and dance about the kitchen, as if this was some kind of ritual that led to eventual happiness. John skipped about the floorboards, from kettle to fridge to cupboard, he made everything seem effortless. Sherlock could not stop smiling, and on John noticing it, he asked self-consciously "what?" Sherlock shrugged his shoulders and with tired eyes much older than his years said "you make me speechless." John shyly turned away and stood on the balls of his feet and twirled his ankles, which made him look like a child who'd been payed what they saw as the most important compliment.

Sherlock stood and glided over to his man, and on reaching him wrapped his arms around waist. He leant down and kissed John's neck and John replied by closing his eyes and in one movement turning to face his other half, without letting Sherlock's arms leave his waist. John kissed Sherlock, lips together and at the perfect angle, and placed his hands on either sides of Sherlocks face. On the contact Sherlock hummed and their breathing became in tune. Sherlock gently moved John so that his lower back was in contact with the work service. The kiss became faster and more mobile, their hands became more tactile and John could feel the goosebumps on the back of Sherlock's neck against his palms. John had never felt a need like it, if he had the choice between oxygen and Sherlock, he would choose Sherlock and in his last moments of not being able to breath, he would watch Sherlock just hold him close to his body. He would feel no pain and time itself would not matter, because the only thing that mattered is that he was in Sherlock's arms. Sherlock was the same story. If he had to choose between John and intelligence, he would choose John. He would be one dumb fucker, but at least John would be there, to guide him through all his stupidity and wrong assumption. That was more important than anything. John wanted this moment to last forever, and then he realised it could, it would. He could have cried all over again. Each kiss remained precious, in every sense, to the point where Sherlock worried that there was a limit. A calculated number on how many kisses he could have, his brain wouldn't allow to believe that it was immeasurable, everything had to have a number, data attached to it, in a long stream of brain tissue and synapses bleeding together to form thought and progress. Limitation made Sherlock cautious in his love. He too wanted this moment to last forever, in his favourite place in the world, after the best day, with his one and only human who was not like anyone of the seven billion others, with his favourite chocolate bar to be the dopamine lathered cherry on top of the mother-fucking triple chocolate fudge cake with rainbow sprinkles.    

Sherlock thought of time and John's mouth and then hesitantly pulled away to say very sweetly, "John my mouth is sore and the tea is cold. Can we resume this once we've made another batch?" John let out a shy laugh, and stroked the front of Sherlock's chest with his hands, he was flustered (how could you not be) and softly spoke "of course beautiful. Now go set up the DVD." On their separating John patted Sherlocks right bum cheek with his right hand to which Sherlock smiled and said "yes Captain sir." John turned to the counter, and reran the ritual he so enjoyed.

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's your favourite line of a film or TV show?  
> I love peoples favourite lines.


	12. Sofa snuggles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS IS FULL OF JOHNLOCK FLUFF, SEXINESS AND KISSING. ALSO TEA. Enjoy x  
> Sherlock and John snuggle on the sofa, eat chocolate, chat and then put on a DVD.
> 
> fav line: 'Sherlock stared intensely at John's crotch which made John laugh so hard he spilt at least two gulps of tea all over the floor.'

John wandered over to a seated Sherlock with two steaming mugs in his hands and the two chocolate bars in a jean pocket each. Sherlock took his cup of tea from John and then on going to reach for John's pockets, John playfully stepped back and said "which pocket is your chocolate bar in?" Sherlock giggled, put his mug down and pulled John closer to him so that his pelvis was in his eye line. Sherlock stared intensely at John's crotch which made John laugh so hard he spilt at least two gulps of tea all over the floor. Both ignored it and Sherlock said whilst laughing "what John? I'm in deep deduction. Come on let me work." He then returned to staring at John's crotch. John laughed even further and he put his mug down next to Sherlock's to ensure he wouldn't have to make  _another_ mug of tea. "Well then Sherlock Holmes, which pocket?" Sherlock looked up at John and his face turned serious for a moment. "The left one." 

Sure enough John pulled the Bournville bar out of his left pocket and rolled his eyes before saying, "you got that from the idea that the heart is on the left side of the body, and so because I love you I thought with my heart and put it in my left pocket right?" John handed Sherlock the bar and Sherlock said "no I saw you put it in the left pocket." Both went into fits of giggles. Sherlock lay down on the sofa and John sat down so that he was in between Sherlock's long legs and then continued to lie down so that he face connected with Sherlock's chest. He was definitely going to fall asleep before the film ended. "John I love you too." John thought for a second and on his realisation he propped himself so that he could look at his fiances eyes. "That was the first time I actually said 'I love you' isn't it?"

"The first time _we_ said it John." John shuffled himself forward and once more kissed his detective, closed mouth, slow and soft. On pulling away he said "I love you Sherlock." Sherlock took John's closest hand in his own, kissed the back of it with his eyes closed and said "I love you too John." They smiled at one another and John pulled the now slightly melted Double Decker bar out of his own right pocket. Sherlock grabbed both their cups of tea, passed one to John (the full one, not the spilled) to which John said thank you. Both mugs rested on Sherlock's chest, being held by separate but close hands. John could still feel the tingle from the kiss on his mouth when he took the first sip. In silence they both opened their different chocolate bars and took the first bite. John hummed with happiness and Sherlock even let out a "so good." John noted that that was probably the first time he had seen Sherlock compliment a piece of food. Most people comment on what they eat continually but Sherlock, to him it was all just fuel. In one end, out the other. Maybe the romanticism of it all had caught him out. They both took a second sip of their tea and whilst John took another bite from his bar Sherlock asked "John you haven't updated your blog since we got back?" John chewed for a moment longer before saying, "we haven't been on a case since we got back?" Sherlock thought for a moment before saying "I thought you wrote personal stuff, things about us?"

"Yes I guess I do, we've been quite busy don't you think?" Sherlock giggled. He knew what John meant by 'busy.' "Why Sherlock? You want me to write something in particular?" Sherlock took a bite of his own bar and nodded. Sherlock articulated what he wanted to say exactly whilst the chocolate swirled around his tongue. On swallowing he said "do you think we should let them know about us?" John was a bit taken a back. Sherlock had never picked up other people as a collective. Especially the one's who read John's blog. "Well I mean, primarily the blog is about us out on cases, it may seem a bit out of the blue, not that most people don't think we're together anyway, but I don't know if they need to, no." Sherlock took another sip of tea and stared at the room directly ahead of him, deep in thought. John remained watching Sherlock. "What is it Sherlock? What's wrong?" Sherlock simply said "that's not it." John was now a little bit concerned, "that's not what?" Sherlock now stopped looking from the wall to look at his lover. To John, the smile that greeted him was a sad one. Something was bothering Sherlock. "Sherlock, that's not what?"

"Your reason, there's something else." John sighed in relief. "Oh right, well to be completely honest, I like that this is ours and ours alone, sharing it, it freaks me out a little bit." Sherlock was now confused, and it showed through the lines of his face. John reiterated, "sharing it would mean that what's happened with us is no longer just ours. It's for everyone else to now get involved, through discussion and irrelevant opinion. It wouldn't change anything about us, we'd still be together, but then people would, I don't know, talk."

Sherlock looked calm once more, and John could even feel Sherlock's body relax beneath him. "Alright John, we'll let it out the old fashioned way, someone will take a picture of us kissing in public and it'll be the talk of London! Oh yes, that sounds much better actually. Then everyone will await for your blog post, and you can just completely ignore what's happened. Infuriate the masses." Sherlock seemed now excited about the prospect. "Alright, you sound like one of the writers from Doctor who."

"What's 'doctor who?'" John giggled and said "never mind. You want to start the film?" Sherlock nodded and Sherlock hit play on the remote. They drank their tea and ate their chocolate, content whilst the film played. When John finished his tea and his bar, he lay his head down once more and shuffled so that their bodies became completely enshrouded in one another. Before Tom Cruise even got with the hot blonde, John's breathing had slowed tremendously and Sherlock looked down to see John sound asleep. Sherlock could not have been happier, and for the rest of the film he spent most of the time watching John rather than the plot on screen.

   


	13. Shower sharing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both John and Sherlock fell asleep on the sofa it seems. A worrying phone call arrives, and John explains it all in the shower to Sherlock.
> 
> fav line: "On John entering the bathroom in nothing but his underpants, Sherlock was evidently already *ahem* aroused."

John awoke with a start, lifting his head quickly. He took a sharp intake of breath through his nostrils and allowed his eyes to adjust to the light. The room was light, it appeared to be morning, and he remembered falling asleep during the film. It seems he'd slept on the sofa the whole night using Sherlock as a pillow. He looked up to see Sherlock fast asleep. His head was lying against the armrest and his mouth was gaped open. John smiled and then very slowly shuffled his body and lifted Sherlock's arms using his own hands, and then slowly crossed them across Sherlock's chest. Once John started to walk away from the sofa, by the time he had turned the kettle on, the detectives arms were wrapped around his waist. John chuckled. "Good morning handsome." Sherlock hummed in happiness and nestled his nose against the top of John's scalp. John waddled around the kitchen in his tea ritual and Sherlock copied his steps without removing his arms around John's waist for even a second, until a warm mug was in his hand. John asked his fiance questions all the while and Sherlock happily replied to them all.

"Did you enjoy the film Sherlock?"

"Maverick is indeed a maverick. And why did they do that to Goose?! It makes no logical sense, and he had no plot, he was just there and then the eject seat?! I just see no need, what happened didn't even change Maverick. Where is the moral John, where?"

"It's so bad it's good."

"John you know I cannot accept anything like that."

"Okay okay fine we'll find something you like... erm, what about the music?"

"I play the violin John, how would I possibly like cheese filled guitar solos."

"Well you won't appreciate the beautiful blonde woman, what about the half naked men locker room scenes?" John could not help but flirt.

"None of them stand up to you John."

"Sherlock fuck, you are so direct, I cannot I just, you know what it does to me, have your tea." John went bright red and handed Sherlock his tea, "here, now get in the shower, you're cold." Sherlock chuckled. He loved making John blush. "Will you join me John?" Now John's face turned an even brighter shade. All he said was "go on" before standing on his toes and pecking Sherlock's cheek. Sherlock replied with a kiss on the lips, and when Sherlock went to deepen the kiss, John knew if he didn't get out now they would spend the whole day unclean amongst the sheets. He urgently pulled away, "Sherlock you know the only thing I want to do right now is go to our bed, but we have things to do and we both smell, please, I'll be with you in one second."

"If it's the only thing you want to do, then what is stopping us?" John gave a stern look before Sherlock admitted defeat and said "alright alright" dotingly before giving John one last kiss before retreating to the bathroom. John sat down with his tea and definitely felt gross after having worn and slept in his clothes from yesterday, not to mention after all the excited running he did to chase Sherlock's clues around the near streets. Just as he heard Sherlock step into the shower and was about to get up and join him, the phone rang. This is something John had worried about ever since they returned from their trip. They had lived in this sort of bubble, it had just been the two of them in each other's company continually, now they would have to spend time apart. John felt terrified on being on his own once more, especially after how much things had changed between them. John had never had so much physical contact in his life. He'd definitely notice less of it. The phone only ever rang for one thing, their was a case. John let it ring out a while, he even hoped the person on the other end would be impatient and hang up, just so John wouldn't have to answer. But alas, it rang and rang, and John felt bad, it must have been for something important, so he clicked that little green phone button a little harder than normal.

"Hello, John speaking."

"Hello John" It was Mycroft. Maybe it was not a case after all, unless it was a case for something even more important than normal. John swallowed. "Hello Mycroft, how can I help?"

"Is Sherlock around?"

"He's in the shower." To this Mycroft made an audible sigh before saying, "John, this is urgent, I need Sherlock's brain here, now."

"Okay where?"

"Get him to call me back as soon as possible. And do hurry him John, he has always liked a long shower." On that Mycroft hung up and it was over. John put the phone down next to him, huffed, downed his now warm tea and then hastily walked to the shower, stripping as he went. On John entering the bathroom in nothing but his underpants, Sherlock was evidently already *ahem* aroused. He flashed a suggestive look to John and said "glad you could join me doctor." John removed his underwear and entered to be under the warm water. He was grateful for the warmth and he instantly felt cleaner. Sherlock immediately wrapped his arms around John and placed his lips into his neck, not kissing, just the contact alone. "Sherlock, that was your brother on the phone."

Sherlock raised then lowered his head so now his chin was in contact with John's collar bone, and his lips were available for speech. "What did he want?"

John sighed and was saddened by the words that were forced to escape him, "there's a case he needs your help on, he just said call him back as soon as possible." Sherlock arched his brow, "was it urgent? What were his exact words?" John turned to face Sherlock, "yes it was urgent, he said 'this is urgent, I need Sherlock's brain here, now."

"You're sad about this, why? This is what we do, no?" John sighed and said, "yes of course, I know I know, I love it, us out on cases, but things are different now, I just worry..." Sherlock interrupted him immediately by kissing John hard. After a brief moment it made John relax. Soon he practically forgot that Mycroft rang at all. Sherlock could have that affect, often in fact. All of John's thoughts instantaneously merged into one and then dissipated into nothingness. Just a quiet tone played in John's head. He needed more, that need rushed through his brain and his limbs were in action to get what he needed.

 

  


End file.
